


All this and heaven too

by fangirlandiknowit



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, fav cousins are fab, mostly fluff and confessions...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandiknowit/pseuds/fangirlandiknowit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Itachi is torn between expectations and his heart's desire, Shisui is trying to support him in making the right choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All this and heaven too

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is inspired by the song "All this and heaven too" by Florence + the Machine. I hope you like it. Originally posted on tumblr.

Graduation. The word had spun through Itachi’s mind throughout the entire day, week, the whole month probably. Guests had come and gone, some of them he appreciated, some not. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to repeat himself throughout the course of his reception. Perhaps even more times than the pieces of cake Naruto had eaten, having invited himself as a guest of Sasuke’s. Sitting on the porch in the cool evening air, he could hear the cheerful noises from his little brother’s open window on the second floor. It made him think that being thirteen again would have been so nice.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the calm, after too many hours of no moment to himself. The garden chair was comfortable, courtesy of his mother’s almost unholy obsession with only using the best of the best when it came to furniture. He should be thankful, he supposed, but could never quite bring himself to care to that extent.

“There you are,” a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts with, and he could hear the creaking of the neighboring chair as his cousin sat down in it. “What are you thinking about?”

“Furniture,” he replied simply, peeking through his lashes at the older male.

“Not my first guess, but an interesting topic, I suppose,” Shisui commented, leaning back and placing his right ankle on his left knee, scratching at the skin where his dress pants rode up a little to reveal a black sock.

Itachi shrugged, taking a sip from the glass of champagne he still held. The golden liquid had all but lost its appeal, already two hours or so since it had been poured.

“I can’t believe your mom made me help carry all the gifts into your room. Shouldn’t that be your job? I mean, it could have definitely waited until tomorrow.”

“You could have declined.”

Shisui rolled his dark eyes, then bored them into Itachi’s. Averting his gaze at the action, Itachi tried to suppress the light flutter inside his belly. He took another sip, if only to distract himself from the fact that Shisui’s face looked troubled more than anything else.

“Wanna take a walk? I’ll take a nice graduation pic of you by the waterside.”

“Don’t bother,” he replied, but stood up anyway.

“But I want one,” Shisui disagreed, grinning wide, pushing his hands into his pockets. “With this one on,” he added, grabbing Itachi’s graduation hat from the small table in front of their chairs and waving it at him.

“You really shouldn’t,” Itachi muttered quietly but put it on, knowing all too well he’d end up going along with it.

They walked through the immaculate garden, exiting through the quaint little wooden gate and heading down the walkway behind the house. Soon, they reached the road, deserted at this late hour allowing them to walk comfortably side by side. With a slight hitch to his breath, Itachi thought they were walking a little too close to each other. Not weirdly close, but… If Shisui’s hands weren’t in his pockets, there was a high risk that the right one might have brushed Itachi’s.

Shisui spent the short walk uncharacteristically silent, and Itachi felt no need to speak. The less he spoke the better, most likely. There was a light breeze, making him shiver slightly in his thin, white shirt, having left his suit jacket inside the house somewhere. If Shisui noticed, he chose not to comment. Itachi almost resented him for it. At the same time, he resented himself for even thinking he should. He felt confused enough as it was, not to mention tired. So very, very tired.

The road divided in a T, and they turned left to follow the water. The sun was setting, coloring the horizon in pale pinks and yellows, small motor boats and larger sailing boats bobbing along the docks. A bit further out there was even a yacht, Itachi frowning at it. It belonged to one of their neighbors, who seemed to never waste a second bragging about it. Why people needed to brag about their possessions, but never any admirable actions, was beyond him.

Glancing to the side, he found Shisui humming contentedly, looking at the large houses lining the road. No matter what splendor he faced but weren’t part of, or how many belittling comments he received for being the son of the supposed black sheep of the Uchiha family, Shisui never seemed to resent people’s need to show off. Itachi did.  

“So, cousin dear, what are you planning to do now?”

Having already heard the same question phrased a hundred different ways the past months, Itachi let out a small sigh and tilted his head back, trying to discern stars in the darkening sky above them.

“You know what I’m planning.”

“Ah,” Shisui said, clucking his tongue, “let me rephrase that. What do you _want_ to do now?”

Faltering slightly in his step, Itachi clenched his hands and furrowed his brows at the ground instead.

“Hey,” Shisui told him, gently, stopping to lift his chin up. “Don’t you dare give me some crap about why it doesn’t matter.”

Helpless against Shisui’s knowing gaze, Itachi felt his strength starting to leak from his limbs. It was incredible, really, how no one seemed to notice Itachi’s frustrations except for Shisui even if they didn’t meet for months sometimes. Perhaps the explanation was the simple fact that Shisui never took what he said at face value, and always wanted to get to the bottom of things. Highly annoying, but deeply appreciated.

“I don’t know what I want to do,” he mumbled, secretly relishing in Shisui’s warm fingers against his skin. “Maybe I don’t want to do anything.”

“And yet you let your dad tell anyone who bothered to listen that you’ve applied to study industrial economics.”

“Because I did.”

“And when you get accepted?”

“You mean _if_ I get accepted.”

Shisui gave him a wry smile, thumb sliding along Itachi’s jawline before dropping to his side.

“No one will believe that you didn’t get accepted.”

His tone was gentle, but Itachi still felt a sour taste well up in his throat. Of course no one would, he had perfect grades. There were many times he’d wondered if it would have been better if he wasn’t so smart, but he supposed he’d never know.

“So, I’ll ask you again. What do you _want_ to do?”

A rush of emotion surged through Itachi then, and he parted his lips as if dying to speak, but nothing came out. So he bit his lips, hard, and turned his head to the side. He didn’t particularly feel like dealing with this tonight. When Shisui stepped closer to him he sucked in a breath, and didn’t release it until a soothing hand had been placed on his neck, forcing him to lean his forehead against Shisui’s chest. His cousin was wearing a plain, wine-red thin sweater, black dress shirt underneath. It always felt a little strange to see him dressed up, even though he looked very nice when he did. Closing his eyes, he rested his temple against the soft fabric, Shisui’s scent both calming and enticing.

“You are too selfless, Itachi,” Shisui told him, rubbing circles over the nape of his neck. “I sometimes wish you’d think more about yourself, but I guess you wouldn’t be _you_ otherwise.”

Silence fell over them for a minute, Itachi trying to steady his shaky breathing, wondering if the cap on his graduation hat was painfully digging into Shisui’s chest or not.

“If you had a dream of your own,” Shisui then broke the silent with, talking slowly as if hesitant whether he should speak at all, “it would be easier to stop myself from telling you what _I_ think you should do.”

Heart racing, Itachi didn’t dare to move or even make a sound. A million thoughts flew through is mind, memories mixed with guesses and hopes, all the times he’d suspected Shisui saw him as more than a cousin, more than family, clawing their way to the surface. When he was six, Shisui had dressed him up in a dress and tiara, claiming he was a beautiful princess needing to be saved from evil monsters. When he was ten, Shisui had brought him to the cinema and joked that it was because he didn’t want anyone else to steal his first date. When he was fourteen, Shisui had given him the sex talk and looked relieved when Itachi claimed to have no interest in it at all. When he was sixteen, Itachi had first realized that out of all the people he’d ever met, Shisui was the only one he thought he would ever feel comfortable being intimate with.

And then, from his seventeenth birthday, Shisui had given him looks, little touches, small inflictions in his voice that made Itachi feel… _special._ As if the four years older male couldn’t quite help himself after Itachi told him that no, he wasn’t wasting his time meeting him because he didn’t have anyone else that was really important to him besides his little brother.

Pushing Itachi away a little, just enough to see his face, Shisui searched his eyes. Then he reached up and took his hat off, dropping it on the ground next to them. Itachi stared at it, lying innocently by their feet. As much as he’d looked forward to graduating, he had also dreaded it.

He felt fingers run through his hair, and lifted his face up again. Shisui’s eyes were narrowed in thought, the fingers tugging at the string holding his hair together in the usual ponytail before removing it. His hair caught in the wind, a few longer strands falling across his nose, Shisui quietly brushing them to the side.

“I hate to see you struggling,” Shisui whispered hoarsely, combing through his hair once, then cupping his cheek. His other arm wrapped around his waist, the touch light but secure. “It makes me want to take you away from here, so I could have you all to myself.”

Swallowing proved difficult, but Itachi needed it in order to breathe. His chest felt painfully tight, hands clutching at Shisui’s sides.

“I know I’m a bad influence, and in no position to give advice, considering I barely get by, but…” Shisui gnawed on his lower lip, unconsciously pulling Itachi’s face closer, close enough that their breaths mingled when Itachi’s head tilted upwards. “Fuck it, Itachi, I would follow you anywhere, and support you whatever you choose. I just want you to be happy.”

Forget breathing, Itachi could barely stand. It felt as if his bones sagged, wore down by all the times he’d suppressed his own needs to follow other people’s wishes, to make them proud, to do what he was expected to do. Shisui’s eyes had such an earnest look in them, framed by long, dark lashes that fluttered nervously. Taking a deep, ragged breath, Itachi lifted one hand to place it over the one resting against his cheek.

“Shisui,” he exhaled, mind a mess but heart screaming for the other man. “How can you possibly call yourself a bad influence? Whenever I forget what being happy means, you’re there to remind me.”

Shisui smiled then, a brilliant smile that seemed to light up the world around them.

“Glad to know I can help,” he said, the look in his eyes taking on a deeper, hidden meaning like so many other times. “Anytime.”

“How about always?” Itachi blurted out, insides twisting into knots, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this kind of nauseated anticipation before.

If people described him, they tended to use words like stoic, independent, calm and pokerfaced. He wondered what words Shisui would use.

“Always, hm?” the older man asked thoughtfully, amusement twinkling in his eyes, but the love from before was still there, still strong as ever, evident in the way his mouth just barely caressed Itachi’s. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Impatient, Itachi leaned up to press his lips against Shisui’s smiling ones, melting into the soft touch. He could feel his skin tingle at the contact, chest filling with warmth when Shisui eagerly kissed him back. For a moment, he felt his confusion disappear like wisps of smoke, clearing his head. He felt lighter, as if Shisui’s touch lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders, and tossed it far away to never return again. His lungs were straining, but the pain was sweet, welcomed. And Shisui held him tight, desperate for his feelings to reach him.

When they parted, Itachi longed for the next kiss, and the one after that. It must have shown on his face, because Shisui’s expression morphed into tender affection, with a promise to continue soon.

“I want to travel the world,” Shisui told him, excitement in his voice, his body all but trembling against Itachi’s. “And I want you to come see it with me.”

Raising both hands to run through Shisui’s short, curly hair, intertwining his fingers in the silky locks like he’d been yearning to for what felt like an eternity, Itachi’s answer was a brilliant smile of his own.    


End file.
